


Your Turn

by Savorysavery



Series: Reuniting Us: a Asami Sato & Hiroshi Sato collection [1]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 07:29:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2764835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savorysavery/pseuds/Savorysavery





	Your Turn

**Summary:** I can’t hate you, because you’re my family, so let’s try and heal together.

 **Rated:** K

 **Genre:** Family, Hurt/Comfort

* * *

 

 

“Welcome back, Miss Sato. He’s in here.” Asami nodded her head curtly, pushing open a door.

 

“Hello, Asami.” Before her, at the same, familiar wooden table, with two green cushioned chairs, was Hiroshi Sato.

 

His aging was initially a shock to Asami every time she came: gone was the robust CEO, and in his place, a man who’s guilt had eaten him alive, with a hunched form, and bone thin features. At least until now.

 

Until she’d returned back to him.

 

Now, Hiroshi was on the mend, looking a bit more hearty and hale every time, with stronger red eyes and a straighter posture.

 

“You brought it?” he asked, voice gentle. Asami nodded and placed down the pai sho board, settling into her seat.

 

“I read one of the letters,” Asami stated, shifting her pieces into form on the board.

 

“Ah,” Hiroshi intoned. “Which one?” His fingers plucked up a tile and move it, and he smiled.

 

“It was the one where you talked about the ice cream shop we used to go to. Tian Tian, remember?” Asami shifted a piece into play, nodding.

 

Hiroshi’s eyes glimmered with happiness as the memory came: a smaller, twelve year old Asami, with a gap between her front teeth, reaching her hand up to get a bowl of moon peach and lychee ice cream, an a single cone of watermelon for himself. The thought shifted: Asami and Hiroshi sitting in a park, eating the treat as the sun set, laughing together at their own, secret jokes.

 

“I remember,” Hiroshi replied, eyes shining even more. “You used to always get moon peach and lychee ice cream, with almonds and whipped cream on top.”

 

“You remember?” Asami whispered, leaning forward. Her tile was clenched hard between her index finger and thumb. A smile broke across her lips, and she dropped the tile down in place, reaching for her father’s hand.

 

“Of course I do, Asami,” he said, taking her hand and squeezing it. “It is one of my most treasured memories of our times together. I’d give anything to enjoy it again.” ASami nodded slowly, sniffling a bit. “Now, let me move a few more times so that I might beat you, daughter.”

 

The pieces clacked loudly: normally, Hiroshi and Asami played the game methodically, but today, they were each on the edges of their seat, pieces barely touching their new places before the other was moving their into action.

 

“…Hey, daddy?” she whispered, raising her green eyes. His words still buzz about her head, making her heart swell.

 

“Yes, sweetie?” he whispered, voice choking up with tears.

 

“I love you. Also,” Asami added, lifting her final piece, “I won.”


End file.
